


Map of the Stars

by alephnull



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Getting Back Together, Lie Low At Lupin's (Harry Potter), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 08:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alephnull/pseuds/alephnull
Summary: A conversation in Remus Lupin's kitchen, 1995.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	Map of the Stars

The cool summer twilight reflects off of Sirius' grey eyes, the entire kitchen bathed in a half-light that makes everything seem not quite real. Remus is grateful for being able to see the stars when he looks at Sirius' eyes; it's easier to look at the stars than to look at Sirius.

"Remus," Sirius begins desperately. "Remus, I have to tell you something."

Remus shakes his head.

Sirius had arrived here yesterday, a filthy black mutt barking at Remus' front door. Sirius had caught Remus up quickly on everything—on Harry, on Dumbledore, on all of Remus' questions—and then showered and shaved and gone to bed. (Remus had taken the sofa.)

And now Sirius is here, sitting in Remus' kitchen, looking pleadingly at Remus as though begging for forgiveness, bowed in repentance. What could Sirius possibly say to make all this better?

"Don't," Remus says simply. "There's no need. I know."

Sirius' breathing picks up, and he shakes his head frantically.

"No, I have to tell you. You need to know," he says like his life depends on it. Maybe it does.

"Look at me," Sirius says, grabbing Remus' hands on the table.

Remus does just that.

He's never been able to quite handle how Sirius looks at him. Back when they were young, and there was no war, and James and Lily were alive, and Peter was still—well, you know—Sirius would look at Remus like he was stranded in a desert and Remus was an oasis. Sirius would kiss Remus like he was drowning and Remus was oxygen. Sirius would love Remus like he wasn't a monster, like he was worth loving.

Sirius has a similar look in him now, except it's somehow even stronger. He looks at Remus like it's the last time he'll ever look at him, like he's drinking in Remus' very soul.

"I love you," Sirius says fiercely. "I'm in love with you. I always have been, always was, never stopped. Never will stop."

Remus smiles sadly. Sirius has never been one to just let things drop.

"When I was in Azkaban, there was nothing else to do. I was alone with my thoughts. I've had twelve bloody years—fourteen if you count the past two years—to think about everything I've done, everyone I've loved, everything I am. Some nights, I couldn't think of anything but you. You, it's always been you. Sometimes that was all I knew. I could forget names and faces and events, but I could never forget you. I could never forget the fact that I loved you, that I _love_ you. I'd sooner forget my own name."

Remus laughs, choking on bitterness and regret.

"Why are you doing this?" Remus asks.

"Because I thought I'd never see you again," Sirius replies simply. "I thought I'd never get to tell you. I never got to say goodbye. We parted when I thought you were a traitor. I thought we'd both die without you knowing. I spent twelve years wishing I could tell you that I know I love you, more than I know anything else in my life, I swear."

"Merlin's beard, Sirius."

Sirius clasps Remus' hands more tightly.

"I wish I could go back and do it all again," Sirius says. "Back to the Hogwarts Express. I'd have become an Animagus in First Year so you wouldn't have to transform alone. I'd have spent every waking moment with you and James and Lily. I would never have sent Snape after you—great Merlin, I'm still so sorry about that—you have no clue how much time I spent crying over that in Azkaban. I would have never doubted your loyalty to the Order. I would have never gotten Prongs killed. And I'd never, ever, make the mistake of not letting you know just how much I love you."

Remus stares into the stormy grey of Sirius' eyes, the summer sky darkening to black.

"But you can't," he says. "You can't do that."

Remus has never been one to let wounds lie, always been the one to press fingers and nails against bruises to make sure they really _hurt_ , to make sure he's really alive and human. (Well, he's not even human, not really.)

Sirius lets out a noise that sounds half like a laugh and half like a sob.

"You taught me that I wasn't everything my family said about me," he says, pressing his thumbs into Remus' hands as though to affirm the point. "You made me happier than I've ever been."

"Stop this," Remus pleads, reaching over to brush long black hair out of Sirius' eyes.

"And I don't care," Sirius continues, as though Remus had never spoken, "if you don't love me anymore. If you never even loved me in the first place. If you've gone and found some other man who makes you happy. I'll love you 'till my dying breath, and that's not a promise—that's just a fact, just something I know."

Remus grips Sirius' hands back.

"There's never been anyone else," he says. "I tried to date again, after about nine or ten years. I had a lot of one-night stands, and even kept a boyfriend once. But I didn't love him, not like I loved you. I've always been in love with you, even when I tried not to be. But you know that."

Sirius is crying now, and Remus wishes he wasn't. Sirius looks at Remus as though he's asking for permission, but Remus can't figure out what he wants permission to do.

And this is how it's always been: ten years with, fourteen years without. Feast and famine.

Their love spirals hopelessly onwards for ten years, before dying with a blackened finish, like where Sirius has been burnt off of his family tree. The war has altered their timeline forever, placed a bleak grey ocean between them. Remus has never been a particularly good swimmer.

Remus stands up, walks to the other side of the table where Sirius sits. He leans down, threading his calloused fingers through Sirius' hair that gathers on his shoulders.

"I still love you," Remus whispers. "But you know that."

Remus kisses Sirius gently, as though Sirius might crumble between his fingers if he touches him too firmly, peppers feather-light kisses into Sirius' neck and jaw. Sirius kisses back harder, hungrier, like a dying man inhaling oxygen. Sirius stands up so that Remus doesn't have to lean over, walking the two of them until he's kissing Remus against a wall, splaying his fingers against Remus' chest, right where Remus' heart beats.

Sirius tastes like salt: like tears, like sweat, like the ocean between them. Remus kisses him until he can't taste the salt anymore, until his own cheeks are covered in Sirius' tears.

"I missed you," Remus whines against Sirius' mouth. "I thought about you all the time."

"Me too," Sirius gasps, sucking against Remus' bottom lip.

The two just cling to each other for a while, not moving to kiss or sit down, but simply holding each other against the wall of Remus' kitchen.

"Stay," Remus whispers. "Please."

"I'll never leave again," Sirius promises.


End file.
